


Rainbow Puppies

by zombiesbecrazy



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Batdad, Bruce loves his kids, Dick is a good son, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 15:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiesbecrazy/pseuds/zombiesbecrazy
Summary: Bruce really wanted to hate Pamela Isley right now, but all that he could focus on was how much he admired the way she passionately fought for her beliefs and how he could applaud her application of her educational background into practical endeavors to her cause, however misguided.Being hit with one of Ivy's toxins has Bruce babbling like a fool.





	Rainbow Puppies

**Author's Note:**

> I felt the need to write all the fluff.

Bruce scowled at the computer screen at his test results, because all they really did was confirm what his body was already telling him. He made his way over to the med bay and hooked himself up to the saline IV line that he already had set up, resigned to the fact that he was going to be out of commission for several hours. There was really nothing he could work on until he could fully trust himself to be objective again. He laid down on the bed and closed his eyes, but his thoughts continued to run wild even as he feels his brain becoming more sluggish by the minute.

He really wanted to hate Pamela Isley right now, but all that he could focus on was how much he admired the way she passionately fought for her beliefs and how he could applaud her application of her educational background into practical endeavors to her cause, however misguided.  He couldn’t stop his mind from whispering to him that the gas that she had shot him with an hour ago was nothing short of genius and he wanted to give her the credit that was due. It was _remarkable_ chemistry work.

He wanted to be filled with rage, except all that was inside was quickly starting to feel more like rainbows and puppies. Or rainbow coloured puppies. _Those would be delightful_.

The abundance of positivity was distracting. All the emotions building inside him were startling at worse, but his inability to reign them in was more than concerning.  _Just a side effect of the drug_ , he repeated in his head over and over.

As Bruce was just thinking about how lucky he was that no one was around to see him in such a state, before sleep inevitably takes him, when he heard the roar of a motorcycle come into the cave. He turned his head in time to see Dick jump off his bike and his heart soared in an irritating way to see him stride across the cave.

Without looking around, Dick went straight to the weapons station and started going through the cabinets looking for something in particular. “Hey Bruce. Just making a pit stop before I head home. One of my escrima sticks is causing me problems and I wanted to tinker with its elec…” He pulled out a small voltage meter, then looked towards the computer desk and only now seemed to realize the Bruce was not there like he had obviously assumed.  His eyes scanned the cave and widened when he noticed Bruce laying down.  Dick walked over quickly and looked Bruce over with careful, but worried, eyes. “What’s the damage?”

“No physical injuries.”

“So what’s with the drip?”

“Ivy got me with something at the botanical gardens. A sort of pheromonal truth serum hybrid that appears to be having a temporary, but dynamic, upswing of my serotonin and dopamine levels.  I have an antidote synthesizing but it’s going to take several hours before its ready.  Effects will probably wear off before it’s done. Trying to flush it out faster.”

“Where’s Alfred?”

“I sent him upstairs for the night. No reason for him to sit with me during this. I’m fine.”

“A pheromonal truth serum affecting serotonin and dopamine.”

“Yes.”

“From Ivy.”

“Yes.”

“You sound kind of drunk.”

“Side effect. Will probably pass out soon. Good pass out, not bad pass out.”

“With no other physical symptoms presenting…” Dick raised an eyebrow slowly. “You’re saying that you are either going to start sleepily spilling positively charged emotional secrets at any moment or are you about to become an angry rage monster and should maybe be restrained?”

“The first one. Please leave.”

Bruce averted his eyes to stare steadfastly at the ceiling, but he could practically feel the smile he knew would be growing on Dick’s face. “Why on earth would I leave? It’s like Christmas came a few weeks early.”

“Because if you stay, I’m going to talk. A lot. I can feel it bubbling up. It’s violating.” _And it’s wonderful._ He felt amusingly numb and a little bit stoned. Damn Ivy. He felt torn about wanting to go after her or getting her a present.

“Well that’s a shame, because I love talking. It’s one of my top five things to do.”

Always the chattiest of his partners, this was no surprise to Bruce.  He loved that Dick hadn’t lost that trait as he grew up. Still loquacious and witty to the core. “I know.”

“Talking to me is probably better than talking to yourself. You’ll sound less crazy.”

Dick probably wasn’t wrong.  If he was going to share his emotions unwillingly, he’d rather it be with his son who regularly wore his heart on his sleeve than anyone else, but he still had enough control over himself to deny it. For now. “Leave. Now.”

“Gee whiz, Batman! Whatever you say!” Contrary to his words, Dick sat down on the chair next to the bed. “Except no. You’re injured and alone. I’m staying put.” He kicked his feet up on the edge of the bed next to Bruce to emphasize his point. Stubborn boy. Following his gut. Nothing wrong with that.

Bruce tried to muster up the words to tell him that he wasn’t really injured, but he couldn’t truthfully do that. He may be physically fine but whatever Ivy had sprayed him with was essentially a toxin to his system. Toxin is poison is injury. “I think you are the reason I may hate extroverts.” Throwing the _may_ in there was just enough to allow the words to sneak though.  Made it less definitive.

Which doesn’t actually work because Dick can read him like a book, and he smiles at Bruce and points at him accusingly with the damaged stick. “Liar. You love me. I’m great.”

“You’re right. I love you. And I like extroverts.” And the words are all coming out before he can even think about them. “They have a natural quality I respect. I can fake it for a while when needed, but it’s draining. Draining isn’t even the right word. It’s exhausting. I don’t know how you do it. I wish that I was better at it.” There is something comforting about letting the words come out.  He feels open and light in a way that he can’t remember ever feeling like.  Is this what Dick felt like all the time? “I’m a babbling fool. I like listening to it when it’s coming from you, because it’s normal that way.  It’s off putting to hear it coming out of my own mouth.”

Knowing that this way probably just the beginning, Dick smiled and had a sparkle in his eye.  “Anything else?”

“Hrh.”

“You love me.”

Bruce kept his eyes closed, but gave a small nod. “Yes. You knew that already.”

“I did, but its still nice to hear out loud. We don’t hear it from you often. I’m glad you said it.” 

“Did you know you’re my favourite?” The words surprised him, but they were true. It was something that Bruce needed to say. That he needed Dick to hear. Urgently.

“What? No. Really?”

“Yes. You gave me purpose at the beginning, Dick. I put a roof over your head, but you made the manor a home again. You brought light into my darkness. You saved me from myself.” Bruce had heard the shock in Dick’s voice and it confused his already foggy mind.  How could Dick not know this? “I know what people say about me. That I’m dark, dramatic, closed off and broody and that it started when Jason was killed. It’s all mostly true, but I was always that way to a point. You slowed that progress significantly. You made me better. Make me better. Having you in my life, having someone to care for who cared for me as well, was the thing that I needed most at exactly the right moment.”

The room was quiet for a few moments and Bruce knew Dick’s eyes were on him. He refused to look back. He heard Dick shift in his chair a little and then felt a hand rest gently on his arm. “Even when things were bad? We were real jerks to each other for a long time”

Bruce swallowed deeply, a little concerned about what was going to fall from his lips. They had spoken about this, of course, but never so direct and raw, without Bruce’s filter between them. “Things were definitely rough, but I still loved teen angst filled Dick Grayson. So much. I was mostly frustrated and disappointed in myself that I didn’t know what do to do with or for you anymore. Just like I didn’t really know what to do with a kid when you first arrived, I was equally unprepared for that kid to grow up and be ready to make his own way. I handled it badly. When you left home and became Nightwing I was _so_ proud of you. Of the man that you were starting to become. Of the little role that I had played to help you become who you are now. You are more than I could have hoped you would be when you first came to live here. Every day I want to thank your parents. For giving you such a good foundation to start with. They were excellent parents. I just tried to keep up.” Dick gave Bruce’s shoulder a squeeze in response, a non verbal nudge to keep going. “It’s not just how you changed me though. It’s about who you are overall. The scale of evil to good in my head quantifiably goes from ‘Joker to Dick Grayson’. You aren’t perfect, but you always strive to be better and you are the best person I know.”

All these words and they still feel like they aren’t enough to describe how he feels, but still, he feels content. Glad they are out there.

“I’m flattered, but you’re crazy if think I’m a better person than Clark.”

“Now you are just taking advantage of me in my drugged compliant state.” He finally opened his eyes again and turned his head to look at Dick. “And yes, I most definitely think you are better. I may be biased though. Clark’s not one of my kids.”

“I don’t deserve all that, and I certainly can’t live up to it, but thank you. So much. For saying that and everything else. I love you too.” Dick took his feet off the bed, moved his chair closer and took Bruce’s hand. “Why don’t you tell us more often?”

“Words are hard sometimes.”

“You sound like Cass.”

“She’s not wrong. I’m not good with feelings. Or talking. You know that. Actions speak louder than words. Even now all this talking and my words make more sense in my head.” He grinned and it felt a little goofy. “Cassandra is definitely my favourite.”

Now Dick straight up laughed at him and it sounded like music to Bruce.  He loved to hear his kids laugh; big or small it meant that they were safe and happy. “I don’t want to sound all school yard jealous or anything, but you did just tell me that I was your favourite less than five minutes ago.”

“You’re all my favourites. Dick, Cass, Tim, Damian, and Jason.” He counts them on his fingers. “Favourites.” He points at Dick vaguely, trying to emphasize something. He can feel himself starting to slip, but this feels important. “That was in no particular order.”

“You are such a dad sometimes.”

“Good. Love being a dad. It’s hard and I’m not always good at it, but taking all of you in were the best decisions I ever made.”

“You should tell the others.”

“Probably.”

“But you won’t.”

“Nope.”

“Of course not.” Dick rolled his eyes, but clearly had affection behind the action. “I really should be filming this as evidence. And I should be pestering you for more things that I can use as blackmail down the road.”

“You don’t need to. You already know all my secrets. If you ever want to know something, just ask.”

“You’ll just grunt at me.”

“Good thing you are fluent in Batman.”

“Very true. It’s a special skill I acquired at a young age. Helps when you are the practice kid. I got to teach the others after me.” Dick’s observing him carefully, the way that Bruce had trained him to evaluate people. Taking in all of the details and profiling. “You look tired.”

Bruce nods and he’s struggling to stay conscious.  He knows that he should go to sleep but part of him is liking this drug, being open and honest, and if he goes to sleep the drug will wear off and he’ll be the same as he was before. It’s been a nice change of pace when most times when things change in his life, there are explosions. “I’m always tired.” He can’t remember the last time he slept more than five hours.

“Sleep now. I’ll stay and keep an eye on things. Fix my stick while I’m here. You have better equipment here than at my place anyway.” Bruce hears the distinctive beep that the voltage meter made when it turns on, and he knows that Dick is lying to him.  He has the exact same voltage meter at his kit at home. Bruce knows, because Bruce gave it to him.  It’s a white lie though.  Nine year old Dick Grayson had once taught Bruce that white lies were sometimes allowed if they didn’t hurt anyone. If they made people feel better.

“You mean you’ll keep an eye on me. You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

“That may be true, but I think you’d like it if I stayed.”

“I would. You always have my back, even when you probably shouldn’t. I miss you when you aren’t here, but you’re all grown up. Can’t be here forever.” Silence falls between them again, but there is something else that Bruce needs to say again. Needs Dick to know for sure. “Rainbow puppy.” Bruce hears it come out of his head and knows that they don’t make sense. He tries to explain it to Dick, how the drug makes him feel, how his family makes him feel, but it all comes out like mush. 

Dick chuckled, but it sounded genuine and heartfelt. It always did. “I love you too, Bruce. Goodnight.”

Bruce gave him a small grin, knowing that what he meant got across, and lets the sleep finally take him. The last thing he feels is Dick rubbing his hand gently.  It feels nice and warm. Like home.


End file.
